


Firsts

by Wicker



Series: DeanBenny Love Week [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Precious cinnamon rolls, Purgatory times, What happens in Purgatory Stays in Purgatory, faking your death to make someone emotional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 00:50:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7384414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wicker/pseuds/Wicker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a href="http://wingedwincest.tumblr.com">Wingedwincest</a> during <a href="http://Deanbennyloveweek.tumblr.com">DeanBenny Love Week. </a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Firsts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [castielsstarr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielsstarr/gifts).



The first time it happened Benny told himself that he was imagining things. This was a screwed-up dream.

Dean had been thrown bodily through a thicket and rolled to a still heap, and only the fact that Benny could still hear him breathing gave away that the hunter was still alive. 

The Shtriga didn’t waste time, and it flowed through the trees after Dean, ignoring the vampire-- after all, monsters in Purgatory were hardly a meal worth the trouble. 

Dean was like a goddamn filet mignon roaming the wilderness, and whatever kind of fella he was when he was topside, in this monster heaven, he seemed to have the self-preservation instinct of a gnat.

Benny came clawing through the trees after the witch, able to catch a glimpse of her flowing robes hovering over the human as he lay still, wedged against a downed tree-trunk. Benny picked up a rock, and lined up a shot to the back of her head, when Dean twisted, lightning-fast, and stabbed her through the chest with his blade. 

The light from the ancient witch’s face stuttered and died with her haunting, horrible scream. 

Benny dragged her away from Dean and decapitated her messily right there, just to be sure that she was well and truly not a threat to the hunter. 

Dean stood up and dusted himself off and Benny grinned appreciatively at that swagger he had. 

He cleaned his blade nonchalantly, wigging an eyebrow at the hunter. He wasn’t willing to admit that he was growing pretty attached to the human, and was even daring to think about the fact that Dean was _exactly_ the kind of man that he would happily follow into hell. 

His brain stuttered. Dean had stepped alarmingly close, and his breath drifted softly against Benny’s chin. 

“Had you fooled, didn’t I.” 

Benny nearly stuttered but managed to recover. Was Dean’s hand on his hip? He blinked a few times. “Nah, not for a second. I know you’re king of playing possum.” 

Dean nipped him on the bottom lip. “Tell the truth.” 

Lafitte closed his eyes and listened to the woods around him. Not a footfall within earshot. He dropped his blade and pulled Dean close quite suddenly, and the hunter gasped unevenly. 

“I guess you win this game of gay chicken, dude.” 

Benny took in his scent, nose under his jaw, feeling Dean’s heartbeat race. “Tell me you ain’t bluffin’,” he growled. 

Dean’s fingers wove up to his scalp and his nails scratched at the short hair at the nape of Benny’s neck. “I ain’t.” 

Their first kiss wasn’t gentle, or polite. Benny managed to keep his teeth under wraps just barely, and the noise and breathless gasps from Dean was utterly worth it, dream or not. 


End file.
